


Business and Pleasure

by The Big Roman (Hammocker)



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Developing Relationship, Flirting, Food, Gift Giving, Jason doesn't die, Literally Poor Jason, M/M, Personal Ads, Poor Jason - Freeform, Sugar Daddy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2019-08-20 02:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16546676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hammocker/pseuds/The%20Big%20Roman
Summary: Jason was drowning. He'd wanted to prove to Bruce, to everyone that he could make it on his own with no tricks, but that turned out to be easier said than done. Jason had to come up with some way to deal with his expenses, and fast, lest he find himself groveling to be bailed out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I keep starting things, even though I probably should finish other things, especially in terms of JayRoman. I admit, I don't know how long this will run or exactly where it will go, but I hope it'll be fun anyway.

Jason was drowning. His head was under the water, and his nose barely above. He’d soon be choking on water, and his lungs would fill with fluid and silt before a painful, unremarkable death.

Or, that’s how it felt looking at his monthly rent. When had southwest Gotham gotten so damn expensive?

Jason was three jobs deep, and he still couldn’t make all his ends meet on his own. He didn’t want to call on Bruce after he’d made such a point of not needing him anymore, and he definitely didn’t want to ask Dick for a handout. Especially not after being warned that he’d struggle and fail, and that he’d definitely come crawling back to Bruce.

He absolutely didn’t want to steal ever again. Even if it reduced his grocery bills or gave him that little boost in income, Jason couldn’t stoop to that again. He’d be letting everyone who ever cast doubt on him win. He’d be the loser that his dad had so often said he’d always be.

Jason paced across the foot of his pull-out bed, from the window of the little apartment to door and back, biting his lip in thought. It would be difficult to take more work on top of what he already had, but it could be done. He just had to sleep less. Maybe try for a rent-a-cop gig. It wasn’t a job he’d ever wanted to have, but Jason need _something_.

He needed sleep, Jason soon realized. A glance at the clock on his bookshelf told him that it was well-past midnight. He needed to be up by six. With a groan, Jason shut off the lights, and flopped down on his bed, clutching his pillow.

But Jason couldn’t sleep. His brain worked unpaid overtime on the problem of giving himself just that small leg up that would keep his head above water. Had to do something, something, anything.

It was then that a tiny, uncertain, hopeful idea crossed Jason’s mind. He didn’t usually like to read in bed for fear of falling asleep with the lights on and inflating his electricity charges, but that was a price that he might be able to pay if his hare-brained, floating idea panned out at all.

Jason got to his feet and flicked his table lamp on before padding over the front door. There, he retrieved his largely untouched copy of that week’s paper. Jason fumbled to snap off the rubber band holding the neatly folded thing together as he walked back. The way Jason’s worrying brain figured, no one read newspapers anymore, therefore he might have less competition for a decent job there. He flopped back down on his couch-bed, dead set on that idea.

Unfortunately, by that same token, there seemed to be less ads in the paper for jobs in general. As Jason glanced at the index, he found that only one page was dedicated to wanted ads. When did that happen? Still, he couldn’t give up, and flipped through to the listed page anyway, scanning it with as much care as his tired eyes could manage. Someone needed a clerk, another a manager, two offerings were open for general shipping and receiving positions, and the largest of all was a call for lab rats to test some experimental allergy treatment. Any one of them might have kept Jason from either starving, or being forced to walk everywhere and sleep even less for a while, but few had hours or pay that seemed reasonable. Then again, Jason was past reasonable.

Jason was seriously considering the clerk offer when, on a whim, he flipped to the next page: the personal ads. It was only to see if maybe there was some misprinted offer there, but he found it even less crowded than the job offerings, with much of the printing being taken up by a decidedly non-personal ad for some exotic rice joint. A real old-fashioned crime front, if Jason knew Gotham.

Aside from that, Jason scanned across two lonely housewives, some single schlubb, and-

And, well, Jason wasn’t sure what to make of the last offer immediately. He had to read it twice, even thought it was so short.

“ _Decent company needed. Generous stipend and other compensation to passing applicant. Call for interview._ ”

And below that was a number. That was it. It sounded more like a job offering than a personal ad, but whoever it was hadn’t given a whole lot of details

Jason bit his lip. He wasn’t sure if he bought it. It was sketchy in how bare it was, but Jason figured that it would be even more sketchy if it was elaborate, eye-catching, or even offering more detail like the others on the page. What did “generous” mean? Well, if the salary was specified, Jason supposed that it would have to go with the job ads.

Despite the uncertainty, offer of a stipend was enticing, whatever “generous” turned out to mean, or whatever was expected of him. He needed the extra money no matter what. Besides, if it really did pay nicely, then the gig only needed to be temporary. Some bills paid here, grocery money there, all while Jason worked on finding a better job or two, and once he did, get the hell out of there.

That is, unless this was some kind of crime front to lure him into having his organs stolen. It was definitely possible in Gotham. Then again, losing a few organs might be a relief compared to the shifts he was already doing.

So it was decided. He’d give the number a try. Right after he shut his eyes. Or maybe tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow. Tomorrow...

*****

It was on his lunch break the next day that the idea of calling came to Jason again. He’d torn out the ad and shoved it in his pocket before heading to his first shift for the day. He’d made himself a sandwich, but he’d only picked at it. He wasn’t that hungry, and he might need it for later.

So, instead of eating, Jason stared at his phone for a while, lost in thought. Did he really want to go ahead with this? Maybe the one who really needed to call was Bruce after all. It would be humiliating, but…

No. At the thought of it, of admitting to Bruce that he couldn’t get by on his own, Jason’s choice was made. He took out the little newspaper scrap, and jabbed the number in.

The first ring had barely finished before the line clicked through, and a woman’s voice came through the speaker, loud and clear.

“Hello, sir or ma’am,” she greeted, utterly crisp and courteous. “Are you calling about the newspaper offer?”

“Uh, yeah, I was wondering-”

Before he could finish, she broke in sharply.

“Name?”

“Jason Todd.”

She didn’t miss a beat. “Age?”

“Twenty one.”

Jason couldn’t help but be bewildered by the rapid fire basic questions. Was he responding to a personal ad, or filling out an application form?

“Sex?” she continued.

Jason’s eyes narrowed a bit at that question. What was she implying about his voice?

“Male.”

“Height, weight, and blood type, please.”

Yeah, whoever or whatever this was, his organs were dangerously close to being on the black market. Somehow, though, that didn’t seem especially pressing.

“Six foot nothing, 196 pounds last I checked, and I’m not sure,” he told her, flat and disinterested.

“Okay…” she mumbled, the only hiccup so far, and still she continued smoothly. “Any comments you’d like to add?”

“Yeah,” Jason said, choosing his words less carefully than he probably should have. “If you want my kidneys, can you pay my grocery bills at least?”

“Duly noted,” she chirped, like the comment was as mundane as one about being a fan of long walks on the beach. “Can you be reached at this number regularly, or do you prefer another means of communication?””

Jason paused a moment to think about it. It wasn’t like he had a whole lot of options. He didn’t exactly want to get yelled at by his landlord to take a call from some weirdo lady talking about a sex for money arrangement.

“No, this is fine,” he settled on.

“Thank you very much. You can expect any further correspondence within 48 hours.”

With that, the line went dead, and Jason was left bewildered by the whole exchange. At least the lady hadn’t asked for an address. That was his only glimmer of hope that he might not be kidnapped in his sleep that night.

Still, that almost would have been a mercy compared to what he tempted to stoop to in 48 hours. Theft or Bruce, starvation or begging, rock and hard place. Pride kept him from groveling, but Jason’s pride was inedible and growing thinner by the minute.

Right then, though, he had work to do. Jason packed his sandwich back up, and went to stow it before he got back to his post.


	2. Chapter 2

The waiting was the worst part. The sleep deprivation, the constant half-hoping for a call, the temptation to forget about it and just slip a few bags of chips or some canned tuna under his jacket while he was buying whatever food that he could afford.

All those thoughts and more buzzed around his head like flies. He could spare some of his pride and talk to Dick, or even Tim. Tim would pilfer him something or another, he knew, but Tim was a little too likely to blab something to Bruce. If Bruce was to know that he was struggling, then Jason wanted tell about it himself. Any way he sliced it, Jason got a raw deal.

And then he got the call.

It was later in the night when his phone rang. Seeing the familiar number made Jason’s heart jump, and he’d never clicked answer so fast in his life.

“Hello?” he said, more desperate than he would have liked to sound.

“Hello again, Mr. Todd,” the familiar, female voice greeted. “I’ve scheduled a meeting for you at 7:45 PM this Sunday. Does that work for you?”

Jason was a little stunned by that. Was it really that easy?

Well, any way he looked at it, Jason couldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. He was working that hour, but the window gave him enough time to ask someone to cover for him.

“Yeah, that should work just fine.” He felt a compulsion to pace, but soon dumped down on his couch-bed instead. Anything to keep him from picking at the peeling wallpaper, or pacing a hole in the floor.

“Excellent. The address is 24 Theatre Avenue, and you may ask the concierge to direct you once you arrive.”

“Shouldn’t I know who I’m supposed to meet?” Jason dared to ask. “So I know what to look for?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Todd, but that’s not for me to say,” she replied, just as business-like as ever. “As I said, there will be attending staff who will direct you. Simply tell them your name.”

“If you say so.” Jason tapped his fingers nervously on the bedside table.“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, have a nice day,” she said before the line went dead.

It was three days off from Sunday, but at least Jason had something to look forward to now. Something to take his mind off the monotony of work.

Jason took an excursion down to the address he’d been given two days before he needed to be there and ready for real. He was a little surprised to find that Theatre Ave was in a nice part of town, by Gotham standards. It seemed to cater to the rich folk of the city, with dance halls, classy restaurants, and even a casino or two. His Sunday destination was one of those restaurants.

Jason didn’t dare go into the place, but he paced by once or twice, gazing at its canopy where its name was displayed clearly, but cleanly. _Il Sotto e Sobra_. Jason was pretty sure it was Italian, but, even not understanding them, the words intimidated him a bit anyway. He couldn’t eat in there, could he? He was barely scraping by as it was; no way Jason could afford it.

Maybe this is what the ad had meant by “other compensation”. Jason hoped so, because otherwise, he’d end up even more humiliated.

Jason did all he could to make himself presentable for the day of, just like he would for a job interview. He spent some extra time at the laundromat, ironing a severely neglected suit that he’d dug out from his closet. It was bad enough that he had to go to a fancy restaurant; he didn’t want to look like a complete classless slob at the same time. Bruce had taught him enough to avoid that much.

The day of seemed so far off at first that it completely snuck up on Jason when it finally came. He had to hurry home, clean himself up, and get his somewhat nicely pressed suit on. Jason was eternally grateful that it wasn’t raining that day. It was bad enough to be overdressed on the bus and feeling like all eyes were on him.

Other than that, the commute was smooth enough. The nearest stop to the place wasn’t far, but long enough that Jason would be trapped with his thoughts for a while.

Questions and worries ran wild through his mind. Who was this guy really? Why had he, or maybe she, gone to all this trouble and still kept his identity shrouded? What was Jason even supposed to do once they finally met? He still wasn’t convinced that the entire ad was some elaborate setup to trick him into being shaken down, or extorted, or worse. He _had_ been one of Bruce Wayne’s wards, after all, and that could make for a decent ransom. Jason snorted. If people only knew.

As he approached, Jason once more stood in the wake of the place. It was lit up far more distinctly in the night, both by its own subtle, warm lamps, and the flamboyant neon emanating from the nearby casino. It was an odd juxtaposition, to be sure.

Still, Jason was here now, and he couldn’t back out. He pushed his way through the doors and into the restaurant.

Immediately upon opening the door, Jason was hit with the rich scent of herbs, meats, and, more than anything, boiling fresh pasta. Jason was greeted by a hallway, with what looked to be a coat room on his right and a reception desk on his left. Having no coat to check, Jason went straight for the reception desk.

The man behind the counter, all crisp white suit and clean, sharp features, spoke before Jason could even start to think of what to say.

“Do you have a reservation?” he asked, not really focusing on Jason himself. If Jason didn’t know better, he would have assumed that this guy was talking to someone else entirely.

“I, uh, I think so? I guess so,” Jason stammered, doing all he could to compose himself. “I’m Jason Todd.”

At once, the fellow looked directly at him with a distant interest.

“Ah, very good,” he said with a quick nod. “This way, please.”

The fellow led him at a leisurely pace through the surprisingly bright restaurant. Jason glanced around as they went, at the deep reds and golds of the place, and the fancy art and portraits that adorned the walls. To say nothing of the people. It was all flouncy dress and suits that must have cost well over a thousand. Despite that, the people struck Jason as not having quite as much of a stick up their asses as some of the parties Bruce had dragged him to back in the day. They talked freely, and occasionally even laughed with vigor. Well, maybe whoever had invited him here was just a rich guy with a boring life looking for some fun after all.

On that thought, Jason had reached his destination.

“Here you are, sir,” the greeter said as he stopped at a booth that was placed a good distance away from any of the other tables.

Jason approached, feeling pretty confident in himself for the first time that night.

“Thank-”

Before Jason could get more than that single word out, he caught a glimpse of who was already sitting, and his blood turned cold. It was a man wearing a mask of leather and metal with a glass of a deep red wine in his hand.

_Black Mask_. Roman Sionis. Even wearing a mask to hide his scarring, it was impossible to mistake him for anyone else. Jason had been in his presence once or twice before, and no one could forget the oppressive aura Sionis exuded. Sionis simply set there, but Jason couldn’t help but feel like prey staring down a predator. Every instinct in his body was telling him to run.

“Evening,” Sionis said, so casual and collected that Jason might have bought that he wasn’t a crime boss, a drug lord, one of Gotham’s most prominent figures in organized crime.

Despite the polite greeting, Jason remained rooted to the spot. Was Sionis the one looking for someone to play caretaker to? If so, why? He had to have some plan for it. Sionis was smart and a long-term plotter; that’s why he was so successful and so dangerous. He wouldn’t waste his time on some- sugar baby, no way.

Only when Sionis prompted him did Jason realize that he couldn’t just keep staring.

“ _Please_ ,” he hissed, annoyance just barely bubbling to the surface. “Sit down.”

What could Jason do but comply? There was no way that he could do anything about Sionis at that moment. So, he took a breath, and eased himself down into the booth, sitting directly across from Sionis.

“Jason, was it?” Sionis asked him.

“Yeah,” Jason spoke at last, hoping that his unease wouldn’t come through so obviously. “Hey.”

Despite any efforts on his part, Sionis saw through him, or, at least, part of him.

“I see my reputation precedes me,” he said, courteous with the subtlest hint of pride. “I’m sure you’ve heard a few wild tales of the Black Mask. They get passed around among my own employees. ”

Yeah, Jason sure bet they did.

“Only rumor, I assure you,” Sionis clarified, waving the very idea away. “I have the court documents to prove it. The Black Mask moniker wasn’t one I chose, only one that I’ve come to tolerate.”

Sionis was kidding, right? He had to be. He certainly wasn’t fooling anyone. Jason had seen this guy kill in cold blood with his own eyes. Court documents be damned.

“Whether you’re already aware or not, I should warn you that my appearance is a bit- shocking. If that’s any kind of obstacle for you, then you should speak up now.”

“That’s the last thing on my mind,” Jason murmured, not really expecting to say it out loud.

Sionis hummed, but didn’t reply to that immediately.

“Do you want anything to eat? Drink?” Sionis seemed to sense Jason’s apprehension at the question. “On me, of course. I’d hate for you to leave unsatisfied.” He almost purred the final word.

Yeah, Jason wasn’t sure if he wanted to find out what this guy’s definition of “satisfied” was. Besides, his stomach was turning too much to eat anything at all.

“No, thanks,” he said, curt, but doing what he could to sound polite.

“Maybe later then,” Sionis said, sipping his wine. “Any concerns about my proposal you have, now would be the time to air them.”

What was Jason supposed to say? That he couldn’t imagine how any kind of relationship with a crime lord could possibly work out?

“Well, I don’t know,” he settled on. “How would I know? You offered compensation, but you didn’t say anything about what I’m supposed to do. I keep thinking that I’m gonna get chloroformed out of nowhere and wake up in an ice bath. So, you tell me what concerns I should have.”

Sionis looked at him for a long time. Jason had no idea what he might be thinking. It was impossible to tell. Not just because of his mask, but also because he knew full-well that Sionis had been cursed with the world’s best poker face. All Jason could do was sit there in sheer unease, hoping that his decision wouldn’t involve torture. He had been a little a blunt, after all.

“Fair,” Sionis said at last, and, maybe, just maybe, Jason detected a tinge of laughter in his response. “My proposal is simple: I take care of you, your needs, and any expense you may have. For that, you devote time to me.”

What? Jason couldn’t help but be dumbfounded. Who would ever want a deal like that? What possible benefit could Sionis get from something so- one-sided? He had to be up to something.

“I- Why?” was all Jason could choke out.

“Because that’s what I’m looking for,” Sionis reiterated, speaking at an especially slow place.

“Don’t you have prostitutes for that?” Jason asked, speaking before etiquette and tact even crossed his mind. “Or escorts, whatever you call them. Weird sex parties.”

This time, Sionis laughed outright, just briefly, and it only made Jason more uncomfortable.

“Sure I do, but that’s not what I’m looking for,” he explained, again, making it sound so simple. “I’d like something more stable. A relationship, one based in transaction more than courtship, but still a relationship.”

Jason blinked, gripping his thighs a little too tight. “That makes me a product, doesn’t it?”

“Your time is the product, Jason,” Sionis corrected. “Time is money, after all, and, based on what I’ve seen so far, yours could be valuable to me.”

Was that- a compliment? Jason looked at Sionis for a long time, trying to discern what all of what he’d said was supposed to mean. Despite Jason being overwhelmed with information, Sionis pressed on.

“Speaking of, are you working?” Sionis asked.

_Can you tell from my dead eyes?_ is what Jason might have said if he didn’t sort of want to be on this guy’s good side for the time being.

“Yeah, a little,” he answered instead.

“If it’s menial, I’d want you to quit that as soon as possible,” Sionis said, like it was nothing at all to ask. “Your schedule should be flexible, seeing as mine is rigid and sporadic.”

Any pretense of snark disappeared and Jason sat up straight, staring.

“What?!” He balked outright this time.

For the first time, Jason could discern that Sionis was giving him an odd look, probably taken aback.

“I could find something for you to do while I’m busy, if you can’t stand to be idle,” he offered, like it was an especially strange thing. “Compensated directly for that time and work, on top of everything else I’d be providing.”

Jason still couldn’t believe what he’d heard. Quit his jobs? Just like that?

“And should our arrangement need to end, on either side, then I can pay you a certain sum until you’re able to find work. Or I could set you up with decent employment, if you wanted me to.”

Jason gritted his teeth. Sionis spoke like it was such an easy thing to just get Jason a job. Asshole.

“Couldn’t you do that now?” he asked, doing all he could not to simper.

“No,” Sionis said, expedient and cold. “I’d expect at least a three week trial before fully committing to certain potential compensation. I don’t intend to give the impression that I’ll throw money at just anyone, you understand.”

No, Jason didn’t entirely. In fact, he didn’t at all, but that didn’t change that this loon was offering him a lot for a little with seemingly nothing illegal involved. Whoever Sionis was, whoever Jason knew that he was, it was a lot to pass up. Especially if he’d only need three weeks to get Sionis to find a job for him.

“That- that sounds okay, I think.”

“Good,” Sionis said, giving a nod of approval. “There are more specific points of interest I have that I’d like to run by you.”

Oh, great, here came the weird sex shit. Jason resisted a groan.

“I expect you to eat with me as often as possible,” Sionis continued. “I’d like to have at least one meal together every day.”

This time, Jason couldn’t resist his urge to give a puzzled grimace. Sionis wanted someone to eat with? Really? Who did he think he was he fooling?

“That’s easy enough, I guess,” Jason said, shrugging.

“Of course, you’ll have three meals a day, or the monetary equivalent to buy your own food, no matter what,” Sionis promised, like he expected it to be a point of contention. “There will be times when I’m too busy for full meals, and I’m not so crass as to starve you on a whim.”

Jason internally rolled his eyes. Sionis tortured people for kicks. Yeah, he had no leg to stand on when it came to being crass.

“On that point, I expect wide availability. In addition to leaving your job, I’d appreciate at least an idea of your regular schedule.”

“I don’t do much these days,” Jason fibbed again. “Too busy working.”

Sionis paused a moment, like he was trying to figure out what to do with that statement. The answer turned out to be: nothing at all.

“Nonetheless, 24 hour advance notice of any plans you might have is appreciated, but I know how it is sometimes,” Sionis continued, nonplussed. “I’d also want you to accompany me to functions as often as possible.”

With no other options, Jason nodded along. His understanding was that he’d be a step or two above a prostitute, essentially. It all made sense. A little too much sense for a psycho killer who’d done terrible things. Still, he couldn’t say no just yet.

Sionis gave his wine glass a light, expectant tap with his thumb. “Anything you’d like to add? Requests, demands, concerns?”

Oh, Jason still had a lot of concerns.

“I’d rather not quit my job just like that,” Jason said, again, neglecting any details. “I’m not in the best spot as it is, and why should I be comfortable up and quitting when I don’t know if you’re serious?”

Sionis watched him for another long moment before he placed his wine down, and reached into his jacket. He pulled out on envelope and placed it on the table, sliding it over to Jason.

“I’m very serious,” he said, sitting back. “I wouldn’t have invited you here if I wasn’t.”

Jason hesitated before taking the envelope, but resisted the urge to peek in just then. He didn’t want to look too desperate, certainly not when he still didn’t trust Sionis’ intentions. Whatever he had in mind, it wasn’t as simple as harvesting Jason’s body parts.

“If that’s all-” Sionis continued, giving a pause for Jason to interject. “-then you have 72 hours from now to make up your mind. If I don’t have a yes by then, I’ll forget this conversation ever happened and I’d advise you to do the same.” Sionis reached into his coat pocket and took out a card between his index and middle finger, offering it to Jason. “If it is a yes, call this number.”

Jason took the card a little faster than the envelope, giving it a quick glance. It was blank except for the ten numbers that might just make his financial worries disappear. Jason still barely understood what was happening as he pocketed the card.

“Now, are you sure that you don’t want anything to eat?”

At the question, Jason’s stomach growled, his sense of wariness finally overcome by hunger.

“I really-” He wanted to say no. Felt the need to say no, for his own sake. And yet, that’s not what came out. “Alright, fine.”

“I figured,” Sionis said, glancing out towards the main dining hall.

That subtlest of gestures seemed to call over a waiter with a menu. Like Sionis had planned this out very well ahead of time.

The waiter didn’t say a single word, just handed Jason the leather-bound menu and scooted off again. It was weird, but kind of nice all the same. Jason had never been the best at pleasantries.

Both he and Sionis were quiet as Jason browsed. The menu made it obvious that this was, first and foremost, an Italian joint. In that moment, Jason was glad for his tutoring in Italian, limited as it was. He didn’t want to call back the waiter to explain any menu items, and he definitely didn’t want to ask Sionis.

“You made a choice?” Sionis asked after a brief moment of silence.

“Uh, yeah. I think I’ll have the lamb?” Jason kicked himself the second the words left himself. He couldn’t make statements sound like questions; that was how guys like Sionis got people.

“Good choice,” Sionis said as soon as Jason ordered, his tone dry and neutral like he didn’t care one way or another.

Jason wanted to ask him if he’d know what the lamb tasted like, if he ever ate at all, or even if he felt any joy in life, but instead he stayed quiet as Sionis glanced outwards into the dining room. Not a moment later the same server was on Jason like a hawk on a mouse.

“Abbacchio alla cacciatora,” Jason requested before quickly adding. “Please.”

The waiter jotted the order down before hurrying away once more. It was a little weird, not having him say anything at all. Was that Sionis’ preference, or just a standard at this place?

“Your Italian isn’t bad, but your accent could use work,” Sionis spoke up a moment after he’d ordered.

“You’d know?” Jason asked.

“I would,” Sionis said with a certain wistfulness that seemed to come out of left field. “Spent many Summers in Italy when I was young.”

That figured. Rich people usually had Summer homes like that. Or if that rich person happened to be Bruce Wayne, several that were hardly ever used.

“You don’t go anymore?”

“No. No reason to. Especially not with how hectic things get around here.”

Jason was pulled back to reality by that statement. He swallowed, reminding himself what Sionis almost definitely meant by that.

“Must have been nice to go so often,” Jason murmured, not looking at Sionis anymore.

“It was,” Sionis said, and Jason could have sworn that there was a hint of wistfulness in his voice. A hint that was quickly quashed by what he said next, “Would have been nicer without my parents.”

“You didn’t get along with them?”

“No,” Sionis said, a distinctive chill in the word. “Our priorities never quite lined up.”

Jason couldn’t help but think back to his own less-than-ideal childhood.

“I didn’t really get along with mine either,” he admitted. “But they’re dead now.”

“So are mine.”

A shudder ran down Jason’s spine. He remembered very well the “mysterious” circumstances around the fire that killed both of Sionis’ parents.

At that moment, though, the waiter was back with a platter. The perfect excuse to forget about the morbid topic of conversation.

The server didn’t speak, just placed a plate of stacked squares of focaccia, generously drizzled with olive oil in front of Jason, before he retreated back into the depths of the restaurant.

To satiate his growling stomach, he immediately grabbed a square. He was unsure of the standard etiquette for how to eat them, but resolved to not care, and bite off half the piece of bread.

For a good while, the room seemed deathly quiet with neither Jason nor Sionis speaking a word. Jason couldn’t tell for the life of him what Sionis was thinking, even more so now that they were just- existing near each other instead of talking. What would Roman Sionis think about normally? Business ledgers? Thumb screws? Tax evasion? How was Jason supposed to guess?

For that matter, why was he trying to guess? It didn’t really matter what was going on in Sionis’ head. He was dangerous and unpredictable, and that was all that mattered. Jason couldn’t show any weakness. That being said, he admittedly felt a little exposed, eating while Sionis just sat there and watched.

“Are you going to eat anything?” he asked a moment in.

“No,” was all Sionis said to that.

Jason took slow bites of the bread, pondering how to talk to effectively talk this guy. He had all the qualities of a brick wall now that they weren’t talking business. Maybe he needed to edge a little further out onto the limb he was already straddling. He put the focaccia back on the plate, his appetite gone for the moment.

“Wearing a mask makes it hard, huh?” Jason taunted, skirting around being too confrontational.

“Not particularly,” Sionis said, before taking a pointed taste of his wine.

“Guess you of all people would be used to unorthodox methods of feeding,” Jason dared. “The BDSM mask is just another layer of showing off, is that it?”

That seemed to catch Sionis off guard. Or caught him somehow, at least. He was quiet for a moment before focusing back on Jason.

“Quite a mouth on you,” Sionis commented, but Jason couldn’t tell if it was praise or admonishment. “You’re not completely wrong.”

Jason gave him a playful smile, firing back. “You have no idea what my mouth is capable of.”

“In that case-” Sionis leaned forward. “-is that all you’re going to eat?”

Even without a face to read, Jason knew that the look Sionis was sending him was a dare, but he wasn’t sure how to answer it. If it was directed at the focaccia he had merely nibbled on, or some kind of innuendo.

He didn’t have to ponder it for long before the waiter came back with a plate of perfectly cooked lamb chops, almost a rack’s worth of them. Sionis immediately leaned back in his seat, and Jason couldn’t tell if he was annoyed at the waiter for interrupting them or if it was all part of the plan.

The scent of well-spiced meat and pasta that permeated the place hit Jason like a truck. The chops were not quite gold, not quite brown, but Jason’s mouth watered just looking at them.

Again, unsure of how he was expected to eat the chops, Jason did what felt right. He picked up one of them and took a bite.

It was- Jason froze on the bite. He couldn’t quite understand what was happening, what he was experiencing. The bread had been good, what little he’d eaten, but this was on a different level. He couldn’t tell where one herb began and the meat ended, but it didn’t matter. Jason wanted more. He wanted to sate the hunger that he hadn’t known was there.

On that want, Jason did exactly that. He tore at the chop, stripping it to the bone, completely unconcerned about staining his suit or the “proper” method of consuming them. For once, Jason was in a world of his own, a world of flavor and aroma and feeling.

Jason went through at least four chops like that, in sheer ignorant bliss. He was in the middle of ripping what felt like a strip of fat off of a chop when Sionis spoke up.

“Easy, kid,” he warned. “Take some time to enjoy it.”

But he was enjoying it. More than anything else that he’d done in the past several months. But then, maybe Roman did have a point. The faster he ate, the faster he ran out of food. So, Jason resolved to grab a forgotten focaccia square and bite at that for a while.

The break from defleshing his entree gave Jason an opportunity to glance at Sionis. He was definitely still watching Jason, but Jason was no closer to figuring out how or why this was so interesting to him. Was it so unusual for him to see someone else eating or something? It wasn’t like the rest of the room wasn’t filled with boisterous eaters. Of course, Jason couldn’t be bothered to care much in that moment, certainly not enough to ask. He had food that needed eating after all.

About two thirds into his meal, Jason finally started to feel his hunger subside, and a satisfaction deep in his belly superseding it. He wanted to keep eating, if only because he might not have this same chance for long, but, more than that, he wanted to curl up somewhere warm and comfortable and doze off.

Roman probably lived somewhere comfortable, it occurred to him.

That thought went from cozy to cold shock in an instant. What was he thinking? Coming here, talking to Sionis, taking food from him, allowing all of it had to go somewhere bad. That was the only conclusion here. Jason needed to keep sharp, so he made a point of eating quickly, but not quickly enough to rouse suspicion.

“When’s the last time you had a decent meal?” Sionis asked suddenly.

“Well-” Jason had to pause with a bone still in his hand. He could think of lots of sandwiches, crackers, snacks, but definitely nothing that Sionis would call a meal. “-it’s been a while. Definitely haven’t had any good meat lately.”

“I could have guessed,” Sionis said. “You’re thin. We have to do something about that.”

Jason shifted in his seat at the comment. Sionis said it like it was just an observation, nothing more than an impartial fact. It made Jason wonder if that was some step in a larger plan for Jason. Feed him nicely then eat him, like a Hannibal Lecter story? It was a little outlandish, but nothing was impossible in Gotham, especially something as dark as that.

It didn’t help that Sionis was completely right. He _had_ lost a lot of weight since moving out of the manor, and he didn’t think it had much to do with not exercising quite as often.

Jason kept up a steady eating pace. It was dawning on him that he needed to have gone fifteen minutes ago.

It was a relief as much as a disappointment when, finally, his plate was nothing but bones and what remained of the sauce and seasoning. Jason might have licked the plate if he hadn’t known that that would have made a poor impression.

Sionis’ eyes were on him until the bitter, delicious end. In fact, Jason didn’t think that he’d stopped watching since Jason had started.

“Now, is that all you’re going to eat?” Sionis asked for the second time that night, somehow more suggestive than before.

That was where Jason drew the line finally. He couldn’t stay, and he shouldn’t have stayed in the first place, and now it was time to leave.

“I’m sorry,” he said, wiping his mouth on his cloth napkin instead of the back of his hand. “But I have to go.”

“You’re sure you don’t want dessert?” Sionis’ voice was silky, seductive even, and he leaned forward just like he’d done before.

“I-” Jason swallowed. “I can’t.”

“Fine, then,” Sionis said, easing back into resting posture as if nothing had happened.

“Uh, thanks for...” Jason gave a vague gesture with one hand, hoping that Sionis would understand what he meant. “The meal was great, really.”

He gave a nod that he hoped was sufficient as a goodbye, before turning to go. It was about time, and his now full stomach was beginning to turn again.

He hadn’t taken more than a few steps before Sionis spoke again.

“72 hours, Jason,” he said, that slight dulcet tone back in his voice. “Don’t forget.”

Instead of answering, or even turning around, Jason gave a second, firm nod, before he finally took his leave of the restaurant and Sionis.

As if he could ever forget.


	3. Chapter 3

As soon as Jason got home, certain that he was alone, he sliced open the envelope. His heart shot up into his throat at the sight of it. Hundred dollar bills, at least a couple thousand bucks worth of them. It could easily get him through the month, and maybe beyond if he was frugal. He could pay his rent on time, buy decent food, read in bed without worrying. He’d have time to read _at all_ , given that he wouldn’t need to take a stupid number of shifts all week.

For Jason, it was nothing short of a miracle.

Any happiness, though, was short-lived. Elation soured into dread almost immediately. This was precisely what Sionis was offering him. A life, or at least, a life for a time free of worry. Jason had been given a short-term taste, but Sionis was still dangling an even more tempting carrot in front of his nose.

 _Wouldn’t it be nice if it wasn’t just a month’s worth?_ Jason could imagine Sionis saying. _I could do so much_ more _for you._

But as with all dangled carrots, there had to be strings attached. Jason still couldn’t figure out what those could be, but he had a gut feeling that he’d find out if he did call the number Roman had given him. He didn’t know when, or how, but some price had to be paid. That was how these things worked.

And where did the money come from in the first place? For all he knew, everything in his hand was made with not sweat, or tears, but blood. He had no way of knowing one way or another with Sionis.

Maybe that was a good thing. At least with someone like Sionis, he knew to assume the worst from the onset. Somehow, that was better than better in Jason’s mind than being disappointed. He’d had enough of that in his life.

It would have been easy to just forget the whole thing. Burn the money and go back to the grindstone, forget it happened, just like Sionis had said.

What was going to be difficult was swallowing his pride and fear, and making the call. It was that, or Bruce, he had to remind himself. Somehow, despite what he knew about Sionis, Sionis seemed like the better option. At least he didn’t have any idea of Jason’s past.

No matter what he did, Jason wasn’t going to call right away. He didn’t need to come off as any more desperate than he already had. Ideally, he’d wait a couple days before making the call, if he made it at all.

*****

The next couple days were some of the most relaxed that Jason had had in a long while.

The following day, Jason stirred in the morning, like he always did. He was used to hopping out of bed, throwing on some clothes, and heading straight out, but today wasn’t one of those days. It was a rare off day for him, one that he’d planned to use to catch up on sleep and go food shopping. Having suffered so long at the hand of sleep deprivation, Jason figured that he had earned a good, long, deep doze.

When Jason woke for the second time, he stayed where he was for another extended period, putting his arm around his pillow. What time was it? Did he care? Not really, but because he couldn’t manage to fall back asleep, sooner or later, he stretched, pushed off his blankets, and got to his feet.

Jason wandered over to his little window, leaning against it to stretch his legs. The sun was high in the sky, so it wasn’t too late at least. It was a little surreal. He was rested, but he felt like he was still walking in a dream. Like he wasn’t supposed to be there in his apartment at this time of day, and, really, he wasn’t. He wouldn’t have been if not for…

Sionis. That’s right. He’d had an- encounter last night. He’d been given a stupid amount of money, and offered even more. Offered an out from having to humiliate himself in front of Bruce.

Jason didn’t want to think about that, and a growl from his stomach gave him the perfect reason not to. That lamb from the prior night must have primed him to expect more food, and, for the first time in a long while, Jason felt comfortable going to satisfy it right away. As comfortable as he could be with the weight of Sionis’ offer on his shoulders.

He dressed himself in some plain clothes, and grabbed a single hundred dollar bill from the envelope. The envelope that he then hid between Steinbeck and Twain on his somewhat dusty bookshelf. He didn’t need any potential burglars thinking his apartment was worth checking out.

With that squared away, Jason locked up the place and strolled out onto the streets of Gotham. First stop, the Corner Cafe.

Unoriginal name aside, on the few occasions Jason had visited the hole-in-the-wall joint, he’d been impressed by their bagels. It was past lunchtime, sure, but it was still breakfast as far as Jason was concerned.

The only thing that Jason didn’t account for was change. The cashier gave him a strange look when he handed her a hundred dollar bill in exchange for an egg sandwich and a cup of decaf. Despite that, she gave him back several twenties with no further problems, and ten minutes later, Jason was sitting at the window with a paper bag and a warm cup of coffee.

Jason poured a copious amounts of sugar into his coffee first thing. Maybe he should have just ordered some sweet tea, but too late now. He then set about tucking into the egg sandwich. It was simple, nothing like the prior night’s lamb, but warm and savory. Hot meals had become a rare luxury for Jason, and he ate slowly, taking in the experience.

The sandwich hit a spot deep within him. The perfect balance of simple and satisfying. He couldn’t imagine that Sionis would appreciate it. He’d probably want Jason eating richer, more complex food, and three meals a day on top of that.

Jason wished that he could stop thinking about the guy for a minute or two, but how could he? He was eating on Sionis’ dollar, and he had to make up his mind on whether he should keep doing just that. Ugh.

He ate the final bite of his sandwich with a bittersweet kind of melancholy. Jason was full, but he didn’t want to stop eating decent meals ever, really. He wanted to keep tasting the salt and creaminess of the egg and cheese. All he had left when they were gone was a few sips of coffee.

It would have been easy to order another, it occurred to Jason. He had the money for as many as he could eat. But, no, he couldn’t burn through his money just like that. With all that Sionis had given him, he could make it last for months while he found better work on his own. He didn’t want to blow it all just like that, before even three days had passed.

Jason tightened his resolve, and tossed out the paper bag on his way out of the cafe. Now that he was fed, his next stop was the grocery store. One of the main reasons he’d picked his particular apartment was proximity to a really nice, affordable store by the name of Six Star. It was where he’d bought all his sandwich supplies, when he could find the time and energy for food shopping.

Even with more than enough money to go through, he kept up his usual habits. As he walked inside, he grabbed a basket and picked up a circular at the front of the store, taking the time to peruse the week’s set of sales and bargains. A pound of chicken breasts was two bucks that week, and he could definitely make those last for weeks, if he could find a way to shove them into his mini-fridge. And with his newfound wealth, the offer of two for one packs of snack cakes was tempting, even if the very idea made him recoil at the thought of buying anything he didn’t strictly need. The past several months had trained him on the consequences of needless money-spending.

Jason made his round, picking up both his usual sandwich supplies, along with the chicken. 

He spent a long-time staring at those snack cakes. Just little rounds with creamy ganache inside, but so tempting regardless. They were non-perishable too, and Jason wouldn’t need to give up any fridge space to have a couple boxes. But, again, he didn’t need them, and they would just be an empty expense. Even the three bucks he’d spend could get him more chicken, something that would sustain him longer. But Roman’s money made it so hard to say no.

Jason managed to swallow his id’s urgings, and moved on to more important things.

Of course, he had to make a stop at the clearance rack, off of which he took five battered cans of chili for just seventy-five cents each. They’d make great meals, cold or hot, straight from the can even.

Jason wondered if Sionis would scoff at him, doing his frugal shopping and buying off of clearance. Wondered if he’d demand that Jason “do better”, or something like that. If that would be a part of their relationship.

Jason didn’t like that word, “relationship”, not for him and Roman. They would only be taking part in a temporary business transaction, that’s all.

Somehow, those thoughts of Sionis made him return to the aisle where he’d found the snack cakes, and this time, he didn’t hesitate to grab two packs. He had to treat himself sometimes, didn’t he?

Drawing the line there, Jason hurried to check out, finding that his total only cost him one of his twenty dollar bills. The power of good spending habits at work.

He hauled his bags back over to his apartment, pleased despite his one less-than-necessary purchase. Jason got inside and set about organizing his mini fridge so that he could fit the chicken inside along with sandwich vegetables and fresh bread. The cakes got shoved on top. He’d have to ration them out into lunches, maybe by halves. He bought a luxury, and he was going to make it last.

Once his fridge was full and organized, Jason turned his attention to his shelf. He checked next to The Mysterious Stranger, and, sure enough, the envelope was still there. He opened it and found the hundred dollars bills, now one less, but still so many.

Jason glanced to his fridge and swallowed. Now more than ever, it was looking like a good deal. Sionis could facilitate that every day be like this for Jason. No bills that he couldn’t pay, no worries about scrimping on money or food, a full fridge all the time…

It sounded like a dream, but it was there, in a card that he hadn’t even taken out of his suit’s pocket since the prior night. Just to make sure it was really there, Jason went into his narrow closet, picked up the suit, and turned out the pockets. Sure enough, there was the card. He turned it over in his hands several times, reading off the numbers in his head. It could all be easy for him. Hard to make the change and accept the help, but it could be so easy.

He’d sleep on it, Jason decided. It was still too early to make any calls, and he had plenty of time. He still had 48 hours, after all, and desperation was not a good look.

So, Jason grabbed a book off his shelf, and plunked down on his couch-bed, flicking on his bedside lamp. The book turned out to be his copy of The Call of the Wild, the perfect thing to fall asleep to.

He laid back against his pillow and flipped open the book to a random page. He’d read the book at least four times already, and he just wanted something familiar and relaxing. He picked a paragraph and started to read.

“ _He was a killer, a thing that preyed, living on the things that lived, unaided, alone, by virtue of his own strength and prowess, surviving triumphantly in a hostile environment..._ ”

*****

The next day, Jason woke with the book still laying on his chest. He forced himself to his feet and put it away with a painful yawn.

He had to go in for an early morning shift, then to a second job for the afternoon and evening. It was enough to occupy his thoughts away from Sionis’ offer, at least for a while.

And yet, even as he sorted through retail stock and dealt with the questions and petty complaints of customers, his mind kept shifting back to Sionis, to that dinner, to the number. It kept his chores from becoming completely mind-numbing. It was new and novel, especially compared to everything else that he’d ever experienced.

The thoughts stuck with him even after he got home after work. He showered and got into more comfortable clothes, considering what to do for dinner. He considered going to the Chinese place a couple blocks away, but he’d already eaten out once that week already, and there was perfectly good chicken in the fridge.

Even as he tried to put his mind on anything else, though, Jason’s brain just kept wandering back to his phone and the card with the number.

The idea of it put a chill down his spine, but there was something else in the idea of it too. A curiosity, maybe, a desire to see the other side, as it were. What was a crackpot with as much money as Bruce but a completely inverted philosophy like? What was the like in everyday life? Sionis had been polite and courteous enough in a relatively public setting, but how would it be once he and Jason were together in private?

Jason couldn’t deny that he at least wanted to know, and that information might just have its use in the future.

Well, what the hell? It only had to be three weeks. He could deal with whatever Sionis threw at him for three weeks. It couldn’t be any worse than the stress of his day jobs. At least he’d have food and a roof without having to worry.

Jason picked up his phone, opened up the caller, and punched in the numbers as fast as possible. Easier to keep from losing his nerve that way.

It was a generic lady saying the typical “Leave your message at the tone” line. No mention of who the number belonged to or anything.

Jason didn't bother to leave a message, only clicked the hang up button with a conflicted frown. Had Sionis really just strung him along?

A buzz from his phone made Jason jump. He rushed to check it, and found a text from the very number he’d called staring him in the face.

_Call back in an hour. -RS_

At first, Jason was stunned, even frightened by it. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it wasn’t that. Then a breath of relief escaped through Jason’s nose. At least Sionis was kind enough to give him an indication that he was still on board. And finally, a shiver crawled down his spine. Sionis had given him a direct line? That was- oddly trusting, but Jason was at least flattered by it. Maybe Sionis really did see something in him. What that something was, Jason had no idea, but he couldn’t complain.

It was 7:15, and waiting until past eight seemed like a monumental task in that instant. So Jason counted the seconds. He tried not to, but he did.

Jason set about making himself dinner. His kitchen area was nothing short of pathetic, and couldn’t hold much beyond his compact toaster oven. Just enough to make toast and cook chicken.

He got his pack of chicken breasts out of the fridge and brought it over the counter. Jason opened one of the similarly small cabinets above the counter and took out a roll of tin foil. He first shoved a sheet of the stuff into the toaster, and then cut into the package. On a normal day, Jason would have limited himself to one of the cuts of meat, but, seeing as he was anticipating calling Sionis again, he decided to ensure that his hunger would be sated and placed two of them onto the foil in the oven.

Jason made sure to wash his hands carefully before shutting the oven and setting it to cook. The last thing he needed while trying to gain and maintain Sionis’ favor was salmonella.

As soon as he finished with the chicken, Jason checked the time about 7:25. This was going to be the longest hour of his life.

He tried reading the day’s newspaper, but found that he couldn’t focus on anything in it. Not the headlines, nor the stock reports, nor even the comic strips. Jason just kept checking the time, and by the time he gave up, it was only 7:30.

From that, Jason transitioned into habitually checking of his chicken. Every other moment it seemed, he wandered over and cracked open the oven door, checking to see if it had browned. Yet, every time, it was still pink. Probably because he kept letting the heat out.

Jason ultimately resolved to flop down on his couch-bed and spread out. Staring at the ceiling quickly lost its novelty, so Jason stated to fidget, looking for a comfortable position.

For a moment, he shut his eyes. Then a moment turned into a few moments, then a while. Then a while turned into- something else.

When Jason opened his eyes again, it was a reaction to a pungent smell in the air.

He shot to his feet, recognizing the smell as burning. Not choking burning, but enough to be alarmed.

Jason hurried over to his toaster oven, turning it off first before opening the front. Smoke sputtered out, and Jason waved it away, praying that it wouldn’t set anything off. That would be a frying pan to fire situation.

Once most of the smoke cleared, Jason was left with the sight of his chicken, blackened and bleached on either side.

“Dammit,” Jason muttered to himself. It looked like fate wanted him to starve that night.

Well, at least the fire alarm hadn’t gone off. Jason wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, really, but he didn’t need to explain to his landlord and neighbors that he’d dozed off while cooking chicken. Jason took the chicken out of the oven and placed it on the counter with a frown.

Jason was about wonder if or how he could salvage his dinner when another, more important reminder hit him. Jason rushed back over to check his phone. 8:30. Dammit, he was late. Jason about poked a hole in his phone screen before he managed to redial Sionis’ number. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.

A single ring later, Sionis’ voice came through clear and strong.

“I was beginning to wonder if you’d call back.”

Jason swallowed. Well, he noticed. Wonderful. What should he say? What could he say? Be honest? Be honest.

“Well, uh, I kinda dozed off and burned my dinner,” he admitted.

“Ah.” For once Sionis sounded at a loss for words.

“I wasn’t going to disobey a direct order,” Jason continued, putting an teasing spin on his words. One that he hoped wouldn’t come off as awkward to Sionis.

The line was silent for a moment too long before Sionis spoke again.

“So then, you’re in?” he asked, more easily confident then.

“Yes,” Jason said, as fast as he could get the word out.

“Then I’d like you to come meet me as soon as possible,” Sionis said, straight to business as ever. “When are you next available?”

“Uh, I think I can do that sometime tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow afternoon at one?”

“Sure,” Jason said, figuring that he could get someone to cover his shift at that hour. “Yeah, that works.”

“I’ll text you the address.” Again, a pause, like Sionis wasn’t even quite sure what to say. “Any follow-up questions?”

Jason’s mouth opened immediately, but he had so many questions that they spun around in his head. How often was he going to be expected to see Sionis? What was the pay going to be like exactly? Would he really keep his word about finding Jason a job in three weeks? In the end, one in particular seemed the most important.

“I... Am I on the job for this meeting?”

Another moment of hesitation from Sionis, as though the question puzzled him. Or it was such a stupid question that he was too stunned to say anything at first.

“If that’s how you want to look at it,” he said at least. “After tomorrow, you’ll be compensated on a weekly basis, and on a whim.”

Jason swallowed. It was a lot to take in at once, but he managed to reply, “Okay.”

“Of course, you can back out at any time,” Sionis added. “The arrangement can last as long as I want your company, and as long as you’re willing to give that company. ”

Well. That was a little comforting, Jason supposed, even if he couldn’t help but wonder if there were strings attached to it.

“Should I prepare in any particular way?”

A huff came through the line, and Jason would almost dare to say that it was a laugh.

“No, no, just come as you are.”

Come as you are. Huh. Jason didn’t quite know what the make of that advice. He didn’t know why he felt oddly inclined to actually believe that Sionis meant what he said and wanted to see Jason as he was. No one had ever really wanted that from Jason, why start now? 

“Now, go get yourself something nice for dinner, and get plenty of rest, my boy,” Sionis instructed.

“I will,” Jason promised him.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

On that, the line went dead, and Jason was left to deal with himself. Food. He needed to deal with his hunger, so Jason turned his attention back to his kitchen.

Jason wrinkled his nose at the sight of the chicken, now burned, bleached, and cold. He picked up the foil and tossed the whole mess in his trash can. Well, seeing as Sionis had told him to eat something, he figured that he’d better do it. He turned around to open the fridge back up and try again with another piece of chicken.

But, as he stepped toward the fridge, his eyes fell on the boxes of snack cakes on top of the fridge. He swallowed at the thought of what he was finding the whim to do.

Jason grabbed up a box and ripped open the front of it before grabbing out one of the cakes. He tore open the pack on a cake and shoved it into his mouth. It was the best thing he thought he’d ever eaten, and, although he didn’t think that this was what Sionis had in mind, it was good enough.


	4. Chapter 4

Jason didn’t exactly get plenty of sleep either. He still had a shift early in the morning, after all.

Again, though, that shift seemed to fly by with thoughts of meeting with Sionis again. It wasn’t the most pleasant, but it was, at least, interesting. Sionis was strange and interesting and something like a breath of fresh air. Jason hated that that was the case.

Work for Jason’s day ended around eleven, and Jason went straight home to clean himself up before his real work day. He wanted to make a good first impression, despite already apparently having made one. Jason wasn’t about to lose that favor because he happened to smell a little ripe, especially not with the potential consequences.

As soon as he felt ready-ish, Jason set off for the address that Sionis had given him. From what Jason could tell, the place was right on the cusp between an industrial and residential zone of Gotham, not quite bustling, not quite dead. Whether the location was picked carefully, or at complete random, Jason had no idea.

It was easy enough to walk to from the nearest bus stop at least. Jason found himself standing in the wake of a towering, brick office building. Jason was intimidated by it, just as he’d been by the restaurant, but here, it was tempered by a curiosity. Was this where Sionis lived? He shouldn’t have been surprised, really. Having some kind of apartment close to work made sense given that Sionis ran one of Gotham’s largest and, oddly enough, most popular companies. Popular with its employees, anyway. Supposedly, it was hard to get a job with Sionis Industries because positions had low requirements and high wages. Not like Jason would be caught dead trying to get a job under Sionis. Not intentionally.

Jason walked inside to find an uncharacteristically quaint lobby. It was simple, with a small sitting area, a reception desk to the left, and hallways leading out on the front and right sides.

“May I help you?” the lady behind the counter asked.

“Uh, I’m just trying to get up to the 32nd floor,”

“Elevators are down that hall and to the left, honey,” she said, giving a point and an odd, knowing smile.

“Thanks,” was all Jason could manage just then. He didn’t even think to question her tone.

Jason hurried past a few doorways before he found the elevators. No one was around, but Jason briefly considered taking the adjacent flight of stairs anyway, just to avoid unnecessary encounters with anyone who wasn’t Sionis himself. He was in good shape and wouldn’t have personally had a problem doing so, but he’d just showered, and didn’t want to be tired or sweaty by the time he reached Sionis’ floor.

So, instead, Jason jabbed the elevator button and took a deep breath. The building was probably all hustle and bustle all the time. Who was going to care if some slightly young, slightly underdressed idiot was in an elevator? So long as Jason at least looked like he had somewhere to go.

The elevator didn’t take too long. The door opened up after about a minute or two, and a couple of men in suits stepped out, brushing past Jason to head for the exit. Jason hopped in and tapped the 32 button, right at the very top. He was going to be there for a bit, Jason wagered. At least he’d come a little a early.

And a while it took. Men and women in fancy business suits became a common sight for Jason as he stuck to the back wall. No one spoke, no one bothered him, in fact, no one paid much mind to anyone else at all. It was a little eerie, but probably for the best, especially in Jason’s case. The last thing he needed was idle small talk, or someone ferreting out why Jason was there exactly.

The elevator ride held the same general pattern; every few floors, a small group of people would pile in, then pile out somewhere else. Only at 23 did people stop getting onto the elevator. A couple people remained, and when the elevator hit 26, it was left utterly empty except for Jason. Having become accustomed to the particular pattern, Jason’s stomach twisted a bit at the change. It was probably normal, he told himself. The very upper echelon of the building was probably restricted to the real boss and his trusted few elites. Of course, that also meant that Jason was entering the lion’s den, and, whatever he was, it definitely wasn’t another lion.

With a ding, the elevator door slid open to the 32nd floor,

This floor wasn’t much different from the first, really. It, too, was compact, and didn’t appear to be much beyond a hallway and a few doors. The particularly ornate double doors at the end of the hallway caught Jason’s eye. If that wasn’t Sionis’ domain, the lion’s den itself, then he didn’t know what else could be.

Jason made his way up to the doors, anxiety fueled by his somewhat claustrophobic surroundings. He glanced around for some kind of buzzer or maybe even a doorbell, but found nothing. So, Jason settled for a few solid knocks.

He waited for a few moments, only for nothing to happen. Again, Jason knocked, and he thought he was making enough noise for anyone inside to hear him. Despite that, still nothing happened. Jason’s lips twisted into a grimace and, figuring that it couldn’t hurt, he twisted one of the doorknobs and pushed.

As luck would have it, the door opened with a _crrreak_. Triumphant, Jason took a step inside before shutting the door behind himself, as he figured was polite.

Seemingly alone, Jason took the time to take in what he’d just stepped into. The thing that struck him immediately was the sense of being in someone’s foyer, but not at the same time. It was an open-plan room with a high ceiling. To his left was a kitchen area, one Jason immediately envied when compared his dinky little tea kitchen. There was a full-sized fridge, and a proper oven, and a full-on marble-topped counter island. Jason would have killed for something half as nice as it.

Then to Jason’s right was what looked to be a living area. A couch and two easy chairs, any of which Jason could imagine sinking into a dozing off on. All were angled towards a brick-laden, yet modern fireplace. Beyond that was a door, perhaps leading to a bath or bedroom. If Jason found the time, he’d have to explore the whole place.

And then in front-

“Straight ahead,” a familiar voice called from deeper within the suite. Well, not really called. It sounded like Sionis was speaking normally and, with little in its way, the sound carried.

Directly in front was an empty, wide doorway, leading into another room that looked to have vast windows and a dining table.

Jason strolled forward, glancing around all the while before he stepped into what he then recognized as Sionis’ dining room, complete with Sionis himself sitting at the table’s head, food already set out.

“There you are,” Sionis greeted him.

“Uh. Hi,” Jason choked out, still not entirely sure of how to address him.

Sionis took a glance at his watch before adding, “On time. I’m impressed. Have a seat.”

He gestured to the other chair that had been set up at the opposite end of the table. Jason swallowed down any inhibitions he might have walked in with, and made his way over to sit.

A hearty lunch spread had already been laid out, large swaths of dishes and options set down near both chairs. More on Jason’s side, he noted. Probably because Sionis was trying to gauge what Jason liked best.

Jason set about filling the empty plate in front of him. He picked out what looked like some kind of chicken curry, a bit of grilled fish, and a healthy-looking mixture of salad greens. The scent of it all, rich and inviting, made it hard not to tuck in right away. So, not wanting to be rude, that’s exactly what Jason did.

He took a bite of the curry first, finding it to be just the right balance of spice and meaty flavors. Just like the lamb, Jason’s eyes about rolled back in his head as he tasted it. He quickly recovered though, and began eating in earnest.

Between bites, Jason would occasionally sneak a glance at Sionis. He, too, was making his way through a plate of food, albeit, at a much slower pace than Jason. The zipper on his mask was pulled open now, but Jason couldn’t glen any better of a look at his face from that alone.

“So,” Jason piped up, wanting to break the room’s heavy silence. “You’re eating today?”

Sionis tilted his head up towards Jason, as though he was surprised by the prompt.

“Of course,” he said, his mask more clearly moving with his jaw now. “I told you, I’d like to share meals as often as possible.”

Well, it wasn’t like Jason could argue with that. It was still weird, but Sionis was sticking to his word at least.

“This is where you live then?” he asked, glancing around the room and out the massive windows.

“Most of the time, yes,”

Sionis wasn’t giving up much easily, was he? Jason continued to question regardless.

“Do you rent or…?”

“I own the building,” Sionis explained, the rich bastard. “It’s largely workspace, while several of the upper floors are mostly living and entertaining space.”

“Then you’re the one renting to people?” Jason guessed.

“Not normally,” Sionis sighed, like the very thought annoyed him. “The rooms are intended for guests, should I find myself hosting.”

Jason allowed himself a snort of laughter. “Sounds like you love that.”

To Jason’s surprise, Sionis returned the laugh, if even more brief and subtle. “For better or worse, I never shared my parents’ interest in social meandering. I used to do more of it, but good company has always been difficult to come by. That’s why I sought someone like you out.”

It was a little bewildering for Jason, being told that he was better company compared to Gotham’s upper crust. What was Sionis even looking for? He still hadn’t said, and Jason wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask. He didn’t want to compromise that status before he had everything he needed.

“You’re welcome to have a room for yourself, if you’d ever like to stay the night,” Sionis added.

Not in Sionis’ bedroom? That struck Jason as a little odd. He’d half-wondered if Sionis was only tolerating him because he liked the look of Jason and wanted to get him in bed as soon as possible. The thought reminded Jason of something he’d been meaning to ask about, and that moment seemed appropriate.

“I was wondering…”

As quickly as the thought came to Jason, it petered out on his lips. Sionis kept his eyes on Jason all the while, even as he continued eating.

“How will sex work?” he finally managed to blurt out.

Sionis paused between bites, looking up at Jason with- surprise? He was struck somehow, enough for him to fix his attention on Jason.

“I think I’d enjoy that,” he said at last, shrugging one shoulder. “I think you’d enjoy that too, but I have no interest in forcing anything on you. I want company, not another loose broad.”

No interest in forcing anything onto Jason, just gently nudging - _manipulating_ \- him into accepting it for himself. Like he’d already managed to do. Jason sighed internally at himself.

“You have, uh, ‘loose broads’ then?” Jason dared to ask.

“I do. I’m more than capable of satisfying any needs in that area,” Sionis said, giving a bob of his head that Jason might have assumed was meant to be playful.

Jason couldn’t help but posit his next question. “What about other men?”

Again, Sionis hesitated, seemingly surprised. Jason didn’t know if it was good or bad to get that reaction so often. Either way, he wasn’t reprimanded for prying.

“I’ve occasionally indulged in a cute, young thing or two,” Sionis told him, more freely than Jason would have anticipated. “Not unlike yourself as far as appearance.”

Jason swallowed. That was- he didn’t know how to feel about that detail at all. It was bad enough knowing that Sionis would see other people on top of him. Or maybe below Jason, now. Sionis kept them around for different reasons, maybe, but it was still strange in Jason’s mind. 

He almost preferred the idea of Sionis just seeing Jason and getting his company and the two of them having sex to the exclusion of anyone else.

In his troubled mindset, Jason must have taken several mouthfuls of food, and barely chewed before swallowing. It didn’t take long for Sionis to notice.

“Jesus, kid, slow down, there’s more where that came from,” he chided.

Jason stopped in his tracks, for once having a good reason to keep quiet, given that one of his cheeks was holding at least a few snap peas while the other seemed to be mostly pork. Watching his pace this time, Jason chewed carefully before swallowing. His face was warm by then, and Sionis wasn’t helping by keeping his eyes on Jason.

“You got a fast metabolism?” Sionis asked after another moment. “You eat like you haven’t had anything in days.”

“No,” Jason murmured, sheepish. “Just hungry. I kinda skipped dinner last night. Didn’t have much during the day either.”

That caught Sionis’ attention. His posture immediately turned from straight to tense, and Jason could feel Sionis’ gaze burning a hole into his skull.

“I _told_ you to eat,” he snapped.

Jason winced like a kicked dog. The questions didn’t set Sionis off, but that of all things did?

“I ate,” Jason declared before glancing away and mumbling. “Had some snack cakes after I burned the stupid chicken.”

“That is _not_ a decent meal, Jason.”

“Didn’t tell me I had to have a decent meal,” Jason grumbled, defiant streak kicking in.

For a long moment, Jason was certain that Sionis was about to dismiss him, probably permanently. Saying the wrong thing, only to keep digging the hole deeper? That had to be a big no-no.

Again, though, Sionis didn’t do what Jason would have expected.

“I expect you to feed yourself properly if you’re going to be under my care. I expect it just like I expect you to maintain your hygiene.”

Jason wrinkled his nose, even as a sense of guilt bit at him.

“What do you care if I eat or not?” he asked, trying to ignore the biting feeling that he was being childish. The kind of childish he’d been when he still ran alongside Bruce.

Whatever he was being, it was pissing Sionis right off. His left hand kept clenching and unclenching, and his posture was at just the right, tense angle that Jason could imagine getting socked in the face if the two of them hadn’t been on opposite ends of the rom.

“How do you think it reflects on me to have starving, miserable people under me, hm?” Sionis asked, glaring squarely at Jason even through his mask. “I take very good care to keep employee morale high, and seeing as you’ll be working directly for me, you’ll get direct attention.”

Jason set his jaw, but said nothing. He had no idea what to make of what Sionis was saying. It wasn’t like Sionis wasn’t linked to his fair share of scandals involving criminal activity, but everything he said was consistent with public record. His employees definitely weren’t starving under any circumstances.

In Jason’s silence, Sionis continued,

“I won’t have anyone thinking that I’m neglecting you. That is not something I need muckrakers picking up on.”

Jason snorted, just a quiet puff of air out of his nose. Yeah, there was something that made sense: Sionis being more concerned about public image than Jason’s well-being. Typical.

“So you’re going have three square meals a day. I’ll make certain of it,” Sionis reaffirmed, finally letting himself relax. “Are we clear?”

“Yeah,” Jason said, still a little petulant. “Crystal.”

Sionis eyed him for a long moment.

“If you don’t think you can you can manage that on your own, I can arrange a service to provide food at your home when you’re not staying here.”

Jason jerked his head up only to shake it, caught off-guard by the offer. “No, no, I can handle it.”

Sionis held his gaze for a long while, as though he expected Jason to crack and accept the offer under it. Jason, however, stood his ground. He didn’t need to be completely babied, especially not in his own home.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Sionis said, pointing to him before releasing the gesture and relaxing a bit. “You’re new, you’re used to doing what you want, and, by my estimate, that includes not feeding yourself, so I’ll let this go. But if you keep this up, or give me the impression that I can’t trust you, there will be consequences.”

Jason paled. Was that a threat? It was a little too easy to imagine Sionis baiting Jason - or others for that matter - into coming under his care, only to torture him when he didn’t behave just the way Sionis wanted. The only thing missing was a contract with a little too much fine print. 

Even through his worries, Jason couldn’t find the words to question Sionis, to ask what he meant by consequences. All he could do was assure himself that he’d follow Sionis’ instruction and feed himself. That wouldn’t be too hard with Sionis’ money behind him.

Perhaps to prove his resolve, Jason focused on his food. He avoided shoveling it down his throat, but ate at a brisk pace nonetheless. Once he’d cleaned his plate, Jason made a point to take a little bit of everything from the variety of dishes around him. He didn’t want to appear rude or ungrateful, and it wasn’t like he was picky after all.

For better or worse, Sionis seemed satisfied with his behavior, and said nothing more. 

The rest of the meal was silent and uneventful. Jason much preferred it that way. It was a lot easier to eat in peace and forget that Sionis was there at all. All he had to do was keep his eyes on his plate, all the while filling his stomach as much as he could manage without inhibiting himself. Jason didn’t want to have to eat again that day, even if he got a little hungry later that night.

Sionis finished before Jason, even having eaten at a slower pace. He made it especially obvious when he’d decided enough was enough by zipping the front of his mask up again, something that was especially surreal to watch unfold. It was just so hard to tell where mask ended and man began.

Jason didn’t take much longer afterward.

After a moment or two, Sionis took a glance at his watch, before speaking up once more.

“I need to check on a project in a half hour,” Sionis informed him. “You’ve done what I expected, and I won’t ask any more from you today.”

Jason breathed a sigh of relief. Unfortunately for him, Sionis wasn’t done talking.

“But I will invite you to stay longer, if you’d like.”

“No, thanks, not today,” Jason replied immediately, hoping that he didn’t sound too terrified. “I need to be somewhere.”

Sionis side-eyed him, or seemed to anyway, but continued despite that.

“I should say, as long as you don’t give me a reason not to trust you, you’re always welcome here,” Sionis said, casually, like he hadn’t even heard Jason. “Or, as I mentioned, you may have a room more to your personal tastes.”

So that’s how it was. Sionis was leaving the door open, or, at least seeming to, and letting Jason walk into quicksand of his own accord. His own room was a more appealing idea than sticking around Sionis’ suite, but it was still a trap in its own right.

Or, maybe Sionis did genuinely want him to be comfortable and set his own boundaries. Maybe that was part of this whole arrangement as much as Sionis’ interests. It was unlikely but…

No, Jason wasn’t about to get his hopes up. All his experience told him not to, for fear of ever-looming disappointment. Sionis was a ruthless drug lord and mob boss, not to mention rich and spoiled for choice of company. Even if he wasn’t crooked, why would he want someone like Jason for the foreseeable future?

No matter how he looked at it, the situation didn’t stack up in Jason’s favor, that was for sure.

“I’d like to get your banking details, so I know how to make out checks for you,” Sionis said, standing up and cuing Jason to do the same “Unless you’d rather be paid in cash all the time.”

Sionis sure knew how to spoil a guy, didn’t he?

“No, no, checks work, I can get those to you,” Jason assured him, hoping that no one would notice sudden, high amounts of money being deposited. 

Then again, when it was Roman Sionis providing that money, no one in his right mind would ask too many questions.

He stood to follow Sionis towards the door, keeping a step or two behind. That was a fancy thing aristocrats expected from their underlings, right?

“No one should give you any trouble, but I’ve told my security to keep an eye out for you just in case,” Sionis promised him. “The first idiot who makes a problem for you will deal with me.”

Jason didn’t know if it was much of a comfort to hear that, but he was just glad to not be the theoretical idiot. He knew perfectly well what Sionis was capable of, and, in some sick way, Jason was glad to be within his sphere of influence. Anyone with a brain was going to keep a five mile distance from Black Mask’s bad side.

Or his good side, for that matter. As he walked out Sionis’ door, Jason couldn’t help but feel that he was the real idiot here.

He and Sionis walked alongside each other for too long for Jason’s liking, and then waited together for even longer outside the elevators. There had to be a stairwell somewhere, but Jason couldn’t run to look for one, not with those predatory eyes on him.

As the doors slid open, for one horrifying moment, Jason thought he might be getting an uncomfortable elevator ride with Sionis too. But he made no hurry to step inside, only watched Jason expectantly. Jason took his chance and slipped into the elevator, trying to ignore those unseen eyes.

“I’ll be seeing you,” Sionis said, and Jason wished that he could hear it as something other than a threat.

“Yeah. You too,” was the best Jason could come up with. All the while he repeated in his mind, _close, close, close, close_...

Jason had no choice but to stare Sionis down until, finally, the elevator doors crawled shut. Despite himself, and all the potential to be seen, Jason found himself nearly falling into the back wall before sliding down to the floor. He didn’t care who saw him anymore. As long as it wasn’t Roman Sionis.


	5. Chapter 5

The next couple meetings were much of the same. Sionis treated Jason to a meal - often his best or only meal of the day - they talked, they ate, and then Sionis turned him loose. Easy peasy.

He couldn’t deny that it was somewhat tiring when he had to deal with Sionis right after his “menial” work. Jason hadn’t entirely followed Sionis’ instructions about quitting his jobs. He quit the worst two, but held onto one, if only for some sense of consistency. Besides, that way, he had a schedule to give Sionis. He seemed like the kind of guy who liked having limits to plan around.

Being around Sionis got a little easier the more he went, Jason had to admit. It wasn’t like they had nothing to talk about. Sionis knew his literature, his philosophy, his food - God did he know a thing or two about the food on his table.

“The idea might have been existential dread,” Sionis said once, referencing some work of Dostoevsky. “But personally, I found the story very entertaining.”

“Yeah, the struggle to avoid becoming a nihilistic wreck,” Jason replied between having a bite of a strawberry based cake confection. “Fun stuff.”

On top of their chats and discussions, Sionis seemed genuinely intrigued by Jason, and regularly asked him about his life.

“Where’d you grow up, Jason?”

“Right here on the streets of Gotham,” Jason told him, like it was nothing. “What, you think I’d be dumb enough to move to this city?”

That earned a chuckle from Sionis.

“The Greeks were right about hope being a plague, Jason,” he said, detached and easy. “It wouldn’t be feasible for me to give everyone on these streets a job.”

_But it would be feasible for you to extort as many as possible_ , Jason thought before immediately pressing that knowledge into the back of his mind. He’d have all the time in the world to contemplate every terrible thing Black Mask was known for doing once he had more of his money and a stable job.

“You’re doing better than most people, I can tell you that,” Sionis continued. “You’re not shooting heroin in the back alleys like most people, native or otherwise.”

“Yeah, no thanks, had enough of that kinda crap with my parents.”

Jason didn’t know why he’d said that. He didn’t have any reason to tell Sionis the truth, or anything at all, especially not when that kind of information could jeopardize his current position. Why would Sionis bother with some loser who came from loser junkie parents?

Although, Sionis didn’t seem especially fazed by it. “Addicts, huh?” he asked. “Not an easy place to dig yourself out of.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Jason said, complementing his words with a dry laugh. “I’ve been scraping by on my own since I was thirteen as it is, I don’t need drug money eating into that.”

“Most people would rather put themselves into debt trying to forget their troubles,” Sionis mused. “I appreciate that I don’t need to convince you to give up that sort of vice.”

Jason’s mind briefly flashed to his occasional smoking habit, something that he’d all-but-had to give up once he’d started to feel the pinch, both from Bruce and money troubles.

His thoughts then flashed to Sionis’ own drug empire, the very one that fueled those indebted street junkies, and realized that he was in no position to judge Jason one way or another. Sionis had given him more than enough money already; he could afford to allocate a little to a pack or two if he felt the itch.

“Hope you don’t mind the drinking, the gambling, and the sinning at least,” Jason rebuffed.

“Sinning?” Sionis almost laughed. “Compared to most people in this building, you’re an angel, I promise you.”

For once, Jason was able to trust what Sionis said, whether he liked or not.

It was the only instance of Sionis giving any hint at the dark underside of his business. Jason had briefly worried that somehow, some way, Sionis knew about what he’d done before becoming a broke, three-job scrounger, but that was about as impossible as could be. He was definitely a lot bigger now than how he was back then, and he and Black Mask had only had cursory brushes with each other. Jason remembered when he first showed up, but that was the most of their former “relationship”.

He wondered briefly if Sionis would have remembered him if his appearance hadn’t changed so much, or if he’d been a decent thorn in the side of Black Mask.

He wondered too why he wasn’t lying to Sionis more. Why he was talking about his actual life with this psycho instead of a fabricated one. It wouldn’t have been hard. He could just be a normal kid who grew up in a normal household, and not the pretty messed up one he’d actually been brought up in, poor and rich alike.

Maybe it was just how well Sionis seemed to listen, or that he had no frame of reference to judge Jason by except what he’d seen thus far. All he knew was what Jason told him, and it was kind of nice to vent his problems to someone who couldn’t tell him that he was just whining or overreacting or too angry. He could just be honest without fear.

The fact that he was growing less and less afraid of Sionis by the day scared him more than anything. Fear was his ally with nutjobs like Sionis. And yet, Sionis hadn’t acted like a nutjob at all. No, he’d been nothing but courteous and pleasant and an all-around good host.

It was strange, all of it, but Jason was bothered by it less and less every day.

*****

On one particularly nice night, following a dinner of roast lamb and rich vegetables, Sionis presented Jason with a box with a name emblazoned in its top. _Au-Delà_. Sounded French. 

“Go on,” Sionis said, returning to his place.

With little other option, Jason did as he was told and pulled the top off of the box. The inside was lined with silk wrapper, which he unfolded to reveal a jacket. Already, a knot was forming in Jason’s throat. In fact, as he lifted the jacket up, he found that there were two, neatly folded in the box. The first was a deep red, highlighted in milky white, and as Jason ran a hand down its front, he found the material was luxuriously soft, yet substantial. The second was a similar red, but with black lining its seams, and the same material. 

These were for him? They _couldn’t_ be for him.

“I thought you’d like them,” Sionis said, briefly interrupting Jason’s thoughts.

Jason couldn’t reply right away. It was so much to take in all at once. About the only gifts anyone had ever gotten him were the birthday and Christmas gifts that Alfred or Dick or Tim picked out for him on occasion. Rare occasions, at that. No one had _ever_ just given him something out of the blue. Sionis had told him that he’d give Jason gifts on a whim, but Jason hadn’t thought...

“The ones you wear seemed a little threadbare,” Sionis commented, almost too casual. “Seemed a shame for someone as pretty as you not to have something nice to put on.”

“They’re- they’re really nice,” Jason gritted out, doing his best to keep his voice from breaking. “Thank you.”

“Well, don’t be shy, try one on,” Sionis encouraged.

Jason didn’t think he could. How could he? His hands had started shaking, ever so slightly, around the fabric. This was too much and too fast. What could he have possibly done already for Sionis to give him these? Furthermore, what would Sionis ask of him in return?

Jason shoved himself to his feet. “I- I can’t-” He hadn’t planned anything beyond that, and instead of continuing, he gathered the box in his hands. Maybe if he just had some time alone. A little breathing room. He turned a little bonelessly, and beelined for the nearest bathroom

“Jason?” Sionis called after him, confusion apparent in his voice, but Jason didn’t reply, his mind swimming with silky fabrics and unanswered questions.

*****

If Jason had thought he’d feel calmer in the bathroom, then he’d been sorely mistaken.

Sionis’ bathrooms were as luxurious as anything else in his penthouse, probably more spacious than Jason’s entire living room, but still he felt like a rat in a cage. He was yet to try on either of the jackets, too busy trying to figure out where to go from here. All he could do was hold the box tightly to his chest, as though it might provide some comfort.

It was ridiculous, Jason knew. This was just part of the agreement, wasn’t it? He’d give Sionis his companionship and whatever else he might require of Jason, and he would receive gifts in return. He wasn’t sure if it all felt soured, or if the unexpected sentiment had just knocked him off guard.

Jason was an idiot. Now Sionis had to know that he was some kind of flake. If he’d just played it cool and held his ground...

Jason’s racing thoughts were interrupted by a quiet knock on the door.

“Jason, you’ve been in there a while,” came Sionis’ muffled voice.

Jason couldn’t find words to reply.

“I’d still like to see you in one of those jackets,” Sionis continued. “I want to be sure they fit you.”

Jason found himself gripping harder to the box still in his arms. He wanted to try them on, he did, but something was stopping him. Some strange sense of justice and deservedness.

“I’d like to get your measurements sometime. You’d be even better to look at in something tailored to you.”

Jason gave a soft laugh, partly so he wouldn’t cry. What had he _done_? What made Sionis so interested in providing for him? Let alone give Jason nice things to wear.

“You can leave at any time,” Sionis reminded him. “But I’d be flattered if you’d come back and sit with me for a while at least.”

Flattered? What did Sionis have to be flattered about from Jason, some street rat nobody for all Sionis knew?

Still, Sionis made no further addendums, and Jason could hear him pace away, back to wherever he’d come from. Jason let out a long breath he’d been holding. What did he do? He could leave, take the out and forget any of this happened, just like he’d wanted to do many times before. Yet still, something else in him was urging him to stick around just a while longer. To put on a jacket already, and relax a little..

After moment upon moment of agonizing, Jason finally concluded that it couldn’t hurt. He probably wouldn’t even be wearing the jacket for long. Just enough to appease Sionis. That was all he needed to do. Suck it up and wear it.

At last, he placed the box on the counter and pulled out on of the jackets, the red and black one. Jason slipped it on, finding that it fit perfectly, despite Sionis’ worrying over getting the right size. The zipper was a sturdy metal, and it zipped up with absolutely no problem. Almost immediately, any chills that Jason might have felt were replaced with warmth and coziness, like a hug.

If Jason hadn’t really wanted to leave before, then he absolutely wasn’t going anywhere now. And somehow, Jason was okay with that. He was okay with giving this criminal mastermind, this murderer the time of day. He felt a pang of shame, but it wasn’t sharp enough to send him back to Bruce’s door.

All he could do was gather the box in his arms once more, and push his way out of the bathroom.

He found Sionis still in the main room of the suite, but the dining table in the upper area had been cleared and cleaned up. Sionis, instead, was sat on the den’s sofa, a glass of wine in one hand, and a book in the other.

Jason took a deep breath and forced himself to walk over to him..

“Uh…” he prompted, unable to find words.

Sionis looked up, and, if Jason wasn’t mistaken, he gave the subtlest of flinches at what he saw. Jason had no idea if that was good or bad, and he waited with his breath held.

“Look at you,” Sionis said at last, putting an emphasis on each word.

“It fits,” Jason said, giving a sheepish smile. “Thought you should know.”

Sionis placed his book aside before motioning for Jason to join him. Having made it this far, Jason obliged, stepping over to sit down next to him. He kept a comfortable distance between them, unsure of what was expected.

He felt Sionis’ eyes on him all the while, could sense him making any judgments. Before long, Sionis edged closer to Jason and gingerly wrapped one arm around his back. Jason couldn’t have moved or spoken if he wanted to, and he about hugged the box still in his arms, looking for any comfort available.

“I’m pleased you came back,” Sionis murmured to him. “You’ve got quite the nerve.”

It was easy to shake off any of Sionis’ intimidation factor at a distance. At this proximity though? It was an entirely more difficult thing to do.

“Yeah, running off and hiding in your bathroom, lots of nerve,” Jason mumbled in some attempt at sarcasm.

“How often do people give you gifts, Jason?”

“Not often.”

“So you were shocked, and you’re not used to this kind of arrangement to begin with,” Sionis said, shrugging his shoulders. “But you came back. You came here in the first place. You keep surprising me, Jason.”

Sionis wasn’t wrong. Jason had had every opportunity to get away, to spurn Sionis and his money and do the right thing, ethically and for himself.

Yet still, here he was, on Sionis’ arm, closer than ever. Maybe he liked it more than he wanted to admit.

“Well,” Jason said, feeling the nerve that Sionis seemed to admire come back. “I’m full of surprises.”

He gave Sionis a nudge with his elbow, managing a smile that he hoped was playful.

As ever, Sionis was unreadable behind his mask, but he was paying attention at least. The lightest of pinches on Jason’s hip, though, was more than enough to gauge Sionis’ interest.

“I hope I’ll see more of them from you,” Sionis murmured, low in his throat.

The words sent a shudder through Jason, one that was partially fear, partially- something Jason didn’t want to face.

Sionis, though, had other ideas. He put his wine aside before taking Jason’s jaw in his hand, and forcing eye contact between them. Jason swallowed, utterly unnerved from seeing Sionis’ teeth, but not his eyes. He couldn’t have looked away even if it had been option. He was petrified that Roman might lean forward and kiss him, if it could even be called a kiss at all.

Thank God he didn’t.

“You go home and think about it, hm?” Sionis purred, stroking Jason’s cheek with his thumb.

Jason just barely managed a nod, not wanting to argue. He could swear that Sionis could hear his heart pounding in his chest. 

Finally, Sionis released Jason from his hold, face and body. Jason blinked a few times, disoriented and confused, unable to say anything at all.

“That’s an order,” Roman continued, but it was entirely without bite.

He picked up his wine once more, taking a sip. He seemed to be waiting, maybe, for Jason to make the next move. Leaving it open for Jason to continue their little cuddling session.

Jason, however, had had more than enough for the evening. He stood up and made a prompt retreat.

*****

Jason got home that night still wearing one of his gifts. He wanted to take his mind off of it, off of Sionis. Unfortunately for him, late into the night, Jason could still picture Sionis next to him, arm around him. 

He knew why, of course. It had occurred to him at least an hour ago. It wasn’t the smell of new clothes, though, that was there too. No, it was the smell of leather and aftershave and glazed wood. It was _Roman’s_ scent.

And yet, he hadn’t taken the jacket off. He hadn’t even showered that night. Jason had just laid down in bed and curled up into himself. The only thing keeping him awake was a restless mind. Constant questions about why he was still doing this, and why the jacket smelled so damn _good_.

Jason’s stomach twisted in that knowledge. Why the hell did Sionis do this to him? Was it intentional? Or was Jason more messed up than he thought? Why did he _like_ this?

It was a terrifying prospect, getting complacent while he was in the monster’s jaws. They were open for now, but how long could that last? He couldn’t let his guard down, not now, not ever.

Even so, Jason still refused to take the jacket off. At the very least, it was some, strange form of comfort, and Jason drifted off with the thought of Roman at the front of his mind.


End file.
